


Further Tides

by Robottko



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Aquariums, M/M, Merlock, Merman John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 15:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10924455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robottko/pseuds/Robottko
Summary: John had never been one to follow the rules, even as a young Mer. The other Merfolk watched with dismay as John treated the rules like a checklist, hopping from one activity to the next. Always leave one fin in the water, stay away from coral, and never let a human see you.





	Further Tides

John had never been one to follow the rules, even as a young Mer. The other Merfolk watched with dismay as John treated the rules like a checklist, hopping from one activity to the next. _Always leave one fin in the water, stay away from coral, and never let a human see you._

The last one was John's favourite rule to break. Humans were notoriously dangerous, and exceedingly fun to mess with. When he was younger he started slowly, swimming closer to shore, spying on their odd, floating vessels. As he got older, he ventured closer and closer, nicking smaller items for trophies.

Now that he was in his mid-twenties, he spent most of his time spying on humans, listening to their conversations and trying to learn their odd language. Sometimes, when he felt really daring, he would have a bit of fun, splashing the humans and watch as they tried to logically explain what they had seen.

_"You need to be more careful,"_ His parents told him for years, getting more exasperated each time. _"You need to be more careful."_

He should have been more careful.

 

* * *

 

**_The greatest scientific discovery in modern history._ **

Sherlock sneered at the banner strung across the top of the London aquarium.

London had been abuzz for the past few months, every newspaper declaring the marvellous discovery: Mermaids were real, and they had captured one.

Two fishermen had supposedly caught it just off the coast of Clacton-on-Sea, spearing the creature through the shoulder on accident. 

There was, of course, no photographs of the creature. The veterinarians and doctors that had operated on the thing had been sworn to secrecy, and any time the discovery had been brought up to local authority, the subjected of discussion was quickly changed. 

Sherlock, like most of the population, assumed the whole thing had just been a grizzly hoax. So when a banner declaring the London Aquarium's newest exhibit popped up, Sherlock spent hours annoying Mycroft until he gave him clearance to go see the beast. 

It was a week before the opening of the exhibit, and the aquarium was practically deserted. The only others in the building were other scientists and politicians, and they were all standing around a large, clear tank.

At first, Sherlock didn't see anything. The round tank that occupied the centre of the room seemed to be empty. Upon closer inspection, however, he saw the creature.

The creature appeared to be male, judging by the lack of mammary glands and traditional masculine features. ( _The creature is hardly human, and probably doesn't adhere to our ridiculous human gender roles,_ Sherlock reprimanded himself.) His short blond hair floated ethereally in the water, the beauty of it softening the hard glare he was shooting the scientists in front of him. On the creature's left shoulder was the remains of the wound, heavy scabbing covering both the entrance and exit wounds.

"-cruel to have the tank empty?" Sherlock heard one scientist say as she observed the creature.

"We originally had ocean-like protection in there for him," another scientist said, glancing at the first. "But he refused to come out for further study. We had no choice to sedate him and remove the obstacles for now."

"What makes you think the creature is intelligent enough to communicate with us?" A third man said, clearly a politician.

The look that the creature shot at the politician told Sherlock all he needed to know. _The creature can understand us_.

Sherlock smirked to himself, walking around the tank slowly as to get a better look. The tan flesh of the creature blended seamlessly into the green scales of his tale, which flashed brightly in the light. The creature's torso was corded with muscle, and Sherlock could see translucent webbing between his fingers. There was some old scarring on the right side of his caudal fin, and Sherlock frowned as he tried to place the scarring pattern. 

"Propeller or coral?" Sherlock asked aloud, more to himself than anything.

"Sorry?" A voice said, distorted by the water. Sherlock glanced up to see the creature looking at him.

"Your tail," Sherlock said after a moment, gesturing down. "There's some scarring on your right caudal fin. Which was it, a boat propeller or coral?"

"A boat propeller," The creature said, looking confused. "Sorry, how did you-"

"He can speak!" A man interrupted loudly, helping the small crowd get over their temporary shock. "We can communicate with him!"

"Of course you can," The creature said, looking back at the crowd. "You just haven't been trying."

"We've been asking you questions all afternoon," a woman pointed out, her pencil moving furiously as she struggled to write everything down.

"Like I said," The creature replied. "You haven't been trying."

Sherlock snorted loudly, causing everyone in the room to look at him, including the creature.

"He has a point," Sherlock said with a shrug. "You all are babbling nonsense at him, rather than asking him scientific questions." Sherlock glanced up at the creature, who was watching him steadily. The corner of his mouth twitch slightly as if he were going to smile at Sherlock, before thinking better of it. 

"So what do you suggest?" One of the scientists asked, adjusting her glasses slightly.

Sherlock sighed dramatically, stuffing his hands into his brand new Belstaff coat. "If you expect me to explain everything, you'll never get anywhere. Now leave."

" _Excuse_ me?" said the politician who called the creature dumb.

"I said leave," Sherlock replied. "I refuse to be in a room with this much stupid, and clearly _you_ haven't made any headway with him."

The only person who ended up leaving was Sherlock, as most people don't take kindly to being called an idiot. Not that being thrown out was going to stop Sherlock, of course, but it did put a damper on his mood. 

Perhaps a night-time visit to the aquarium would provide him with the privacy he needed.

 

* * *

 

John was exhausted. Every day since he had woken up, there had been humans demanding answers from him, but today they brought in a whole crowd. The humans threw questions at him so rapidly that he couldn't translate quickly enough.  Eventually, he became so frustrated and angry that he refused to speak, on principle alone. 

That was, until the human boy startled him.

He hadn't been a boy, not really, but he appeared younger than the rest of the group, most likely a few years younger than himself. He had eyes like the sea, and hair wilder than kelp, and John had been absolutely baffled at how observant he had been. The other humans had barely noticed the spear wound on his shoulder, let alone the decade old scaring on his tail. 

He floated lazily to the top of his tank, breaking the surface of the water. The top was open, a cruel reminder that freedom was so close, yet so impossible. Movement on dry land was difficult for Merfolk, and oxygen would suffocate them within a half hour. 

"This is better," a deep voice said from above, startling John from his quiet reprieve.

His eyes snapped open to look for the sound of the intruder, finding him almost instantaneously. The human from earlier, the one that observed so keenly, lay above him on the scaffolding the other humans used to feed him. He was stretched across the metal, looking down at John with obvious curiosity. 

"Hello," the human said, "I'm not supposed to be here, of course, but I assumed you wouldn't mind. My name is Sherlock Holmes."

"Sherlock," John tried the name out, satisfied at the feel of it in his mouth. "It is very...interesting to meet you. My name is John."

"John?" Sherlock frowned. "That's a very...common name."

"Ah, you expected something more exciting," John's mouth quirked into a small grin. "I picked it myself. My birth name is a bit complicated for the human tongue."

"Very well," Sherlock replied with a nod. "I am curious, what exactly are you?"

"I thought that was obvious," John replied, glancing down at his green tail. "You humans have been writing about us for centuries. I am a Merman."

"I didn't want to assume," Sherlock said with a shrug.

"You're the first," John replied dryly. "How did you know I could understand you? You were the first person to actually address me."

"Your reaction to the man that suggested you weren't mentally competent," Sherlock replied, a small smirk on his face. "The brief flash of disbelieved outrage told me all I needed to know."

"And the scarring on my fin?" John asked, resting his forearms on the edge of the tank. "How could you possibly guess that it was a boat propeller?"

"I didn't guess," Sherlock sniffed. "I knew. I investigated a murder where the corpse has similar markings to yourself. When I questioned the family, they mentioned that he had been in a boating accident years before. They weren't exactly the same, of course, which is why I also suggested the possibility of coral wounds."

"That's amazing," John replied earnestly. 

Sherlock's cheeks turned an odd shade of red, his eyes blinking rather quickly. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking at a loss for words. John thought the whole thing was absurdly adorable.

 "That's not what people normally say," Sherlock said after a moment.

"What do people normally say?" John asked.

"Piss off," Sherlock said with a shrug. "Or something to that effect, anyway."

"What does that mean?" John wrinkled his nose in confusion. "Piss off?"

"Ah...it's a rude version of 'go away', I suppose," Sherlock replied. "Most humans dislike when I observe things about them."

"Well, that sounds boring," John said. 

"And you hate being bored," Sherlock said. "You have a bit of a danger streak, which your family disapproves of."

"I'm the only one of my kind," John lied hurriedly.

"Don't lie to me," Sherlock scoffed. "I won't tell anyone. Your family disapproves of your danger streak, but you've been getting riskier as you've gotten older-"

"Why won't you tell anyone?" John interrupted. "That's all the other humans could talk about all day."

"Because they're idiots." Sherlock said.

"And I'm not?" John asked.

"There's still time to disappoint," Sherlock replied, the words playful instead of biting.

 

* * *

 

The opening day for John's exhibit came the next week. According to John, he hadn't spoken to anyone but Sherlock, who couldn't help but feel slightly pleased by that. Sherlock kept himself busy trying to figure out the best way of getting John back to the sea. It wasn't easy, especially with a suspicious Mycroft breathing down his neck. 

"It would be easier to sneak you out if your tail was a bit shorter," Sherlock mused to John as they waited for the doors to open. Sherlock had stayed overnight, keeping John distracted from his growing anxiety. "I sneak in through the vents, and I can't very well carry you through them." 

"I'll let my sister know that you think I'm tall," John said, grinning lazily up at the scaffolding that Sherlock had made his permanent perch. "She's made fun of me for years for my short length."

"Yes, well, we'll need to get you there first," Sherlock said, tapping on the cool metal. "Perhaps, if I fill the boot of a car with water..."

"Do you have one of those?" John asked. "A car?"

"Not yet," Sherlock said. "But that won't be too difficult to arrange."

"You're not going to steal a car, are you?" John asked suspiciously.

"Is it stealing if I give it back after?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes."

"Oh, you're no fun," Sherlock said, his voice fonder than he had intended. He stood up from his spot, swinging down so that he was on the floor next to John's tank. "They're going to be letting people in any minute now. Are you alright?"

John swam down towards him, nodding once before visibly steeling himself. He pressed a hand to the glass, and Sherlock placed his hand on the glass over it.

The doors opened just seconds later, and waves of people crowded into the tiny space, pressing themselves up against the glass so they could see John better. Sherlock found himself shunted off to the side unceremoniously. 

John floated awkwardly in the middle of the tank, looking nervous and unsure of what to do. Sherlock gave him a small wave when he looked around, and John relaxed minutely, swimming a tight circuit of the tank to the delight of the crowd. 

Keeping one eye on John, Sherlock made his way around the crowd, listening to the discussions as he went. Most people found John to be a marvel, discussing him with open admiration. Some people were scared, convinced he would hurt them. A few people near the front tittered about how attractive John was, and Sherlock couldn't stop himself from shooting them a glare.

That earned him an odd look from John, and Sherlock reminded himself to keep his emotions in check. After all, they weren't incorrect. John was a very attractive merman, and he really couldn't be annoyed just because other people agreed with him.

Scowling at himself, Sherlock made his way to a side door that blended in with the wall. He turned the knob discreetly, please to find the door give way. A quick inspection showed that it locked from the inside, and that it led immediately outside. 

_Perfect_.

Sherlock worked quickly, taking advantage of the clueless crowd. Taking a small coin out of his pocket, he jammed it into the latch so that it would close, but not lock. Then, he stepped away, continuing his path around the room like nothing happened. 

Throughout the day, the crowd never diminished. The guards kept them on a strict schedule, making sure to rotate the people regular so everyone got a chance to see John.

Or the merman, as they knew him. No one but Sherlock knew his name. 

Sherlock allowed himself to be ushered out halfway through the day. John looked visibly stricken when he was led away, but Sherlock could only shake his head. _I'll be back for you later_.

He kept busy after that, gathering the necessary supplies for John's escape. Hot wiring one of Mycroft's pretentious black cars, he lined the boot with heavy duty plastic. After testing it out, he filled the boot with water, then sat down and waited.

 

* * *

 

John swam around in anxious circles, his nerves still a mess from the day's events. The humans had been loud, gaping at him obnoxiously. It had been easier to put up with when Sherlock had still been there, but they had taken him away hours ago, and he hadn't returned. It was enough to tie John's stomach in to knots. 

And the people wouldn't leave no matter what John did. He tried banging on the glass, glaring at them, and splashing them, but they only seemed to enjoy it.

John almost cried when the humans were forced to leave, the silence blissful after the hours of staring. He had hoped that Sherlock would come back to see him, but he had yet to show up.

It was at that moment a door rattled, John turned towards the sound, surprised to see the side door swinging open. He watched for a moment, beaming when Sherlock popped through.

"You're here!" John crowed, knowing the Sherlock would be able to understand him even though his voice was muffled by the water. "You've been gone so long. What have you been doing?"

"I've got a plan," Sherlock said with a grin. "I'm helping you escape."

John swam to the top of the tank, leaning his body over the glass so he could peer down at Sherlock. 

"I know you're a genius and everything, but you told me that the Thames was too dirty, and that the ocean was very far from here," John reasoned. "How do you suggest I escape?"

"Because I'm a genius," Sherlock smirked up at him. "Now hurry, we haven't got much time. Mycroft has noticed his car missing, and I'd rather not overly tax my makeshift waterproofing."

"Wait, you want me to jump out of my tank?" John asked.

"Do you trust me?" Sherlock asked.

John nodded once, using his arms to lift his body out of the water. Once his caudal fin had cleared the surface, he swung his body around, lowering himself over the side.

"Let go, John." Sherlock said. "I've got you."

 John let go, squeezing his eyes shut as he fell downwards. His breath caught in his throat as two pairs of strong arms wrapped around his body, only the tip of his tail brushing the cement floor. 

John opened his eyes, surprised to see how close his face was to Sherlock's. He licked the water from his lips nervously, heart fluttering when Sherlock's eyes flicked down to watch the movement of his tongue.

"Why did you look angry earlier?" John asked, feeling flustered.

"What?" Sherlock's gaze returned to John.

"When that group of humans said I was attractive. You gave them a dirty look," John replied.

"Shut up," Sherlock said with no real bite, colour rising on his cheekbones. He turn in place, carrying John out the door where he entered. 

A car sat there waiting for them, the boot open to reveal a full compartment of water. 

"We'll have to be quick," Sherlock said. "My brother has inevitably noticed the absence of one of his cars by now."

Sherlock lowered John into the boot, and John took a quick gulp of water, feeling relieved. He folded himself into the tight space, peering up at Sherlock gratefully. 

"You don’t have to do this, you know," John said. "You're putting yourself in danger too."

"Of course I have to," Sherlock said, as if his actions weren't monumental. 

"I just...thank you," John reached out and grabbed Sherlock's hand. "For everything."

Sherlock gazed down at their joined hands for a moment, and John wondered if he had overstepped his boundaries. A small squeeze from Sherlock reassured him, and he squeezed back before letting go.

"Let's get you to the ocean," Sherlock said before closing the boot, making the interior dark.

 

* * *

 

Most of the trip went smoothly, Sherlock cruising along the road at a reasonable speed as he made his way to Clacton-on-Sea. It was only when he was a few kilometres away that he noticed a nondescript car tailing him closely. 

"Damn it," Sherlock muttered, slowly speeding up to weave around the light, early morning traffic. The car followed seamlessly, keeping enough of a distance to not arouse suspicion.

Clacton-on-Sea appeared before them, the North Sea glittering in the distance. Sherlock was so thrilled to see it, he barely felt the tap on his bumper. The second one, a more forceful bump, made him start.

The car that had been following him was attempting to run him off the road. 

Sherlock gritted his teeth as the car rammed into them again, then he picked up his speed, barely managing to keep ahead of his pursuer.

Another car appeared, just managing to miss Sherlock as it swerved towards him. Sherlock flashed him the bird before losing them in traffic, trying to find the best spot to free John.

The shoreline would be terrible. The men in the cars would get to them before Sherlock could even unbuckle, and even if he did manage to get John into the water, he would be easily spotted in the shallow water. 

The cars reappeared just as Sherlock saw it, a building that covered the entrance to Clacton Pier. 

Without giving it more than two seconds of thought, Sherlock made up his mind, turning into the narrow corridor and driving through the building to reach the pier. The sides of the car scraped as he drove, not bothering to look back and see if the cars were still following him. 

As soon as he made out of the building, he put on speed, racing along the thankfully deserted pier, the wood planks making the trip rough.  Sherlock glanced behind him, frustrated to see two men tailing him on foot now, their suits as pristine as Mycroft's. 

Sherlock pulled to a halt as the pier ended, unbuckling so he could get out. The men stopped, pulling out their guns and pointing them at him.

"Mr Holmes, hand over the Merman, and we won't shoot," One of the men called calmly, his voice carrying through the closed windows. 

Sherlock froze with his hand over his keys in the ignition, the car still purring with life. 

"Mr Holmes, you have stolen government property," The man said, taking a step forward. That was all the motivation Sherlock needed for his next move. 

"John is not property!" Sherlock shouted through his window. "And he isn't yours!"

Sherlock placed the car into drive once more, driving off the pier in a final move. The colours of the piers amusement park whirled by before vanishing, the darkness of the water swallowing the light. 

Sherlock could hear banging in the truck as the car began to fill with water. The trunk popped open, and a very rattled looking John floated out.

"Sherlock!" John cried when he spotted Sherlock still trapped in the car, which was sinking slowly. "Hold on!"

"No, you have to get away," Sherlock said. "We were being followed. They're waiting on the pier to capture you."

"But you'll drown!" John cried, jiggling the door handle.

"I'll be fine," Sherlock lied. "Get out of here!"

"No," John replied, hitting at the window. 

The glass began to crack under the assault, shattering the glass on his fourth or fifth hit. The water poured in, knocking Sherlock backwards into the other door. A pair of strong arms encircled him, pulling him out of the car.

Sherlock opened his eyes, the salt water burning his eyes as he peered up at John. The water above them ungulates peacefully, and it felt like they were barely moving at all. A glance below quickly disproved that thought, the ocean floor rushing below them at an unbelievable rate. 

Sherlock's lungs began to ache, and he tapped insistently on John's shoulder. John didn't seem to notice as he continued to swim, getting them far away from the pier. Sherlock tapped again, his vision going a bit fuzzy.

John looked down at Sherlock, slowing his breakneck pace. His hair was just as lovely as the first day Sherlock had seen it, and he reached out to touch it, his limbs moving slowly.

"Air," He spoke aloud, words swallowed by a bubble in the water. It was only then that Sherlock passed out.

 

* * *

 

Everything was sore. His arms hurt, and his lungs hurt, and even his _hair_ hurt. Sherlock groaned as he stretched out, sand smooth against his back. 

"Oh thank god," John’s voice floated from above. "I was worried about you!"

Sherlock peeled open his eyes, squinting immediately in the late morning sun. The sun had just started its morning ascent when he came crashing off the pier, so he must have been out for several hours.

"Where are we?" Sherlock asked, trying to focus on the body hovering above him. 

"An inlet just off the coast of Hastings," John replied, settling down on the sand next to him. 

"You swam that far?!" Sherlock coughed in surprise.

"I'm a good swimmer," John smiled tightly. "And I needed to save you."

"By swimming all the way to Hastings?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes," John replied. "You saved me, and I don't believe you'll find yourself among friends if you return. Right now at least."

"Are you suggesting I stay with you?" Sherlock asked, a small smile on his face.

"The water is ideal here," John replied quickly. "It's shallow, so you're less likely to drown. There's still enough room for me to swim. You're far enough away from Ferry lines, but close enough for me to snag food for you. Of course, I can always-"

Sherlock leaned over, placing his lips on John's. The Mer went still, his eyes wide in surprise, and his lips remained frozen against Sherlock's.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock said hurriedly as he pulled away. "Oxygen deficiency to my brain. I didn't mean...that is to say, I _did_ mean, but I wasn't intending..."

"Sherlock?" John interrupted him softly. "I would very much like to kiss you again, if that's alright with you."

"Yes!" Sherlock said, his cheeks heating up. "I mean, that would be acceptable."

John laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek before continuing what Sherlock started. 

 


End file.
